


In the Storms

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic, Panic Attacks, Phobias, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trips, Summer of Olicity, Thunderstorms, Trauma, olicity - Freeform, olicity road trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten days into their roadtrip, Felicity wakes Oliver from a particularly bad dream and discovers that, eight years after the boat went down, Oliver still has nightmares when thunderstorms roll in. So Felicity offers to help Oliver get over his fear and see the beauty in the storms. Based in part on that scene from 1x01 where Oliver wakes from a nightmare during a storm and accidentally attacks his mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Storms

**In the Storms**

_“Anyone can love you when the sun is shining. In the storms is where you learn who truly cares for you.” – Source unknown_

* * *

 

_He’s on the plane: the one he took to Starling City with Ra’s Al Ghul. The one he planned to sabotage in the hopes of taking down Ra’s, the Alpha/Omega virus, and – ultimately –himself._

_Only he’s alone. The engine rumbles underneath him, and he knows that the plane’s aloft, but there’s no one here. No dead bodies, no live ones. No Ra’s, and no Nyssa. It’s just him. Just Oliver._

_Suddenly, the plane starts to shudder. Over the roaring of the engine, Oliver can just make out the sound of air howling faster around the plane. Through the open bay doors he spots dark clouds and heavy rain._

_Then it hits without warning: a bright flash lights up the sky and a bolt of lighting strikes the wing of the plane, causing the fuselage to groan and crack. The plane takes a dive to one side, and Oliver finds himself stumbling forward toward the cockpit._

_He reaches the cockpit just in time to see a second bolt of lightning strike the other wing of the plane. The nose of the plane takes a dive, and suddenly it’s in freefall. Oliver cries out as the plane’s erratic motions send him crashing into the console. He grabs onto the arms of the pilot’s chair and maneuvers himself into it. He buckles himself in and glances out the windshield. He doesn’t even have to look at the plane’s controls to know that he’s screwed._

_The wind’s howling past his ears, louder than anything he’s ever heard. Oliver puts his hands over his ears. Lighting flashes in the sky, and rumbles of thunder shake the atmosphere so hard that the plane shudders around him. Oliver feels himself starting to panic. He clutches the arms of the chair and tries to slow his breathing, but the plane’s falling faster and faster. He can’t breathe, can’t see straight, can’t think. His heart’s pounding and he’s going to die before the plane even makes impact._

_But he doesn’t._

_Oliver stays alive long enough to feel the plane crash into the ocean outside of Starling City, hitting the surface with a force of impact equal to concrete. He lives long enough to hear the cockpit windows shatter, long enough to feel the small space quickly fill with water._

_He lives long enough to hear her voice._

_Oliver?_

_Felicity? he calls back._

_It’s her, he knows it’s her. Even with the water pouring in, even with the storm raging above him, even with his heart pounding out of his chest, Oliver would know her voice anywhere._

_Oliver? she calls to him again._

_Felicity!_

_Oliver thrashes in his seat, forgetting about his seatbelt in his haste to get to her. He grasps at the belt with trembling hands, but he can’t get it off. It must have jammed on impact. Oliver grabs the straps in his hands and tries to yank them away, but he can’t. He grips so tight his hands start to bleed, but he can’t do anything. He’s trapped, and the water is getting higher by the second._

_Oliver, where are you? Oliver, help me!_

_She must be on the plane with him. Somehow, some way, she made it onto the plane and he missed her. Oliver struggles against his restraints once more, but he’s panicking horribly now, breathing erratic, and he nearly blacks out._

_He stops struggling, gasping uselessly for air._

_Oliver, I can’t find you. Where are you?_

_The water’s up to his neck now, and he can still see the lighting flashing high up in the sky even though the plane is fully submerged._

_Felicity! Oliver screams her name, voice shaking as badly as he is._

_Help me! Please! Oliver!_

_Felicity! he screams again. Feli-_

_He turns his face up to the ceiling as the water reaches his mouth. He spits it out and uses his last bit of air to whisper her name like a plea:_

_The water covers his head and he’s drowning. He’s drowning – again – and all he can hear is_ her.

 

_Oliver! Oliver, come back to me! Oliver? Oliver, wake up! Wake up! Please!_

 

_He can’t breathe, he knows he’s going to die, and the last thing he’ll ever hear is the woman he loves calling to him, begging him to-_

 

“WAKE UP!”

 

And he does. Finally, he does. But he has no idea where he is or what’s going on. His heart’s racing, he can’t catch his breath, and it feels like he’s dying. He lashes out in confusion and fear and his fist makes contact with something soft. He hears a cry of pain, and he knows it’s her.

 

“Felicity?”

 

The hotel room comes into focus slowly. The shades are open, a storm raging outside. The window they left open a crack to let in the breeze is now letting in rain.

 

“Oliver?” he hears her call tentatively.

 

And finally, his eyes settle on her. Felicity. His Felicity. She’s sitting on the bed next to him cradling her face, tears of pain in her eyes, and oh god, what has he done?

 

“Felicity, I….”

 

He tries to crawl up the bed, away from her, but he’s tangled in the sheets and he falls to the floor instead. He finally gets the sheets off and scrambles into the corner of the room, as far away from her and the windows as he can get. He pulls his knees up to his chest, puts his head in his hands, and finds that he’s hyperventilating. He tries to get his breathing under control, but a burst of thunder makes the floor vibrate beneath him and he moans, attempting to bury himself farther into the corner.

 

And then he hears her voice. Soft, gentle, calling his name.

 

“Oliver, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

 

He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he flinches, tries to pull away, but there’s another hand on his other arm, and she’s pulling his hands away from his face.

 

“Oliver, look at me. Please.”

 

It’s the fear in her voice more than anything that finally reaches his panic stricken mind. He looks up at her, and in a flash of lighting he sees the red spot on her cheek from where he hit her, but it’s her eyes that he focuses on. She looks terrified, but her grip on his arms is strong, her voice suddenly firm as steel.

 

“It’s all right, Oliver. It’s just a thunderstorm. Everything’s going to be fine. I just need you to breathe.”

 

His eyes never leave hers. He focuses on the sound of her voice, the feel of her hands now rubbing gently up and down his arms. When the thunder booms, Oliver’s heart skips a beat.

 

“Breathe with me,” she soothes. “Breathe.”

 

He shuts it all out: the wind, the rain, the lightning and thunder, and he focuses on the sound of her breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He breathes with her, slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He’s done this before, more times than he can count. But never with her. She’s never seen him lose it like this before. It’s a side of himself he had always hoped she’d never have to see. The part of him that’s scared, and weak. The part of him that’s broken.

 

Eventually, his breathing evens out. The band around his chest loosens, his heart rate slows, and the room stops spinning around him. He collapses forward and she catches him, holding him close to her as he trembles.

 

She doesn’t say a word, just holds him close, stroking his back slowly, letting him know that she’s there.

 

Finally, he whispers two words against her chest.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He’s not sure she can hear him over the storm raging outside, but she must, because when she pulls away from him and kisses him gently on his sweat soaked forehead, she whispers back, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

 

* * *

 

She leaves him on the floor, but only for a minute. When she returns, she hands him three pills and a glass of water and tells him to drink it all. He swallows the pills without question and drinks slowly. Once he’s finished, he hands her the empty glass and whispers a quiet, “thank you.”

  
Wordlessly, she grabs his hands and helps him to his feet. He stumbles slightly, but she’s there to steady him. She leads him over to a chair and gently pushes him into it. This time when she leaves for the bathroom she returns with a warm washcloth. She strokes it tenderly down his arms, across his back and chest. When she moves the cloth to his face, stroking his cheek, Oliver sighs and leans into her touch. The move elicits a smile from her. As she carefully wipes the sweat from his face, the wind howls suddenly through the still open window, and Oliver shivers involuntarily. Felicity wipes the cloth soothingly over his forehead before putting it down, going over the window, and closing it. She draws the curtains closed as well.

 

It’s darker in the room now without the outside lights, but the light streaming out of the half open bathroom door is just enough to see by. Felicity brings another towel and dries him off, then gives him a t-shirt to wear. He puts it on but finds that he’s still cold, so she takes his hand and leads him to the bed. He sits back against the headboard, body still shivering slightly; whether it’s the cold or the aftereffects of the panic attack, he’s not sure.

 

Finally, she sits next to him, pulls one of the blankets up the bed, and wraps it tightly around both of them. She huddles in close to him, wrapping her arms around him. Oliver wraps his around her in kind, and when they’re warm and snug, Oliver starts to talk.

 

He explains to her that he’s no stranger to nightmares, and the fact doesn’t seem to surprise her. He explains that he’s had them on and off ever since the storm that sank his boat eight years ago. Sometimes he dreams about the boat going down. He watches Sara die, or watches his father shoot himself in the head. Sometimes it’s just him, drowning at sea, alone. Sometimes he’s on the island, and he can’t find anywhere to hide from the storm raging overhead. His dreams usually involve a storm, and more often than not they happen on stormy nights.

 

He tells her that the only other person who knows about his nightmares is Thea. Thea’s never had to wake him from a nightmare, but his mother and Walter did once: three years ago on his first night back in Starling City. Sara knew, too. She woke with him a few times, but more often than not Oliver was the one who had to wake _her_ from her dreams.

 

“She could never really help me with my nightmares…because she always had too many of her own,” Oliver admits.

 

Felicity snuggles in closer to him, resting her head under his chin. Oliver shakes ever so slightly, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

 

“I never wanted you to see me like this,” he says quietly, voice trembling. “I never wanted you to see me so…weak. And broken. I thought I could protect you from that.”

 

“Oliver.”

 

There’s so much warmth and _love_ in the way she says his name, Oliver feels his heart seize in his chest. He looks down to find her eyes on him, and she sits up in his arms and kisses him tenderly, lips caressing his, and Oliver gasps slightly before kissing her back. When they finally pull away, Felicity reaches up and gently strokes his cheek. Oliver leans into her touch.

 

“You’re not _broken,_ Oliver. You just need a little help. And I want to help you…if I can. If you’ll let me.”

 

Oliver can’t find the words to respond, so instead he just nods.

  
“I love thunderstorms,” she admits. “I always have. I like the quiet that settles over the world before the storm hits; the same quiet that settles in once it’s passed. I like how the thunder rumbles through the air and makes everything tremble. The way the lightning brightens up the sky, shooting off into the distance for miles. There’s so much _power_ in a thunderstorm, and I’ve always found that to be beautiful.”

 

Listening to her voice soothes him in a way that nothing else ever has, and he finds himself smiling. Finding beauty in power is something he can certainly appreciate.

 

“The storm actually woke me up tonight,” she continues. “I wanted to see it, so I snuck to the window and pulled back the curtains to watch. That’s when I heard you call my name.”

 

Oliver frowns, wondering just how much of his dream leaked out into the real world.

 

“I thought you were awake at first, asking where I was, but then you started screaming and thrashing. I shook you, tried to wake you up, but I couldn’t get through to you. You were in it so deep.”

 

“You got through to me,” Oliver tells her. “I could hear you calling me in the dream, but I couldn’t find you.”

 

“I’m here now,” Felicity assures him, and she reaches over and grabs his hand. Oliver squeezes it tightly. Felicity sighs and looks back toward the closed curtains. “I wish you could see the beauty in the storms, Oliver.”

 

“Me, too,” Oliver admits quietly. “Maybe then, I….”

 

He trails off, gazing down at her, and his eyes land on the growing bruise on her cheek. He reaches down with his free hand and gently strokes his thumb over it.

 

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispers, voice breaking slightly.

 

Felicity grabs his hand in hers, strokes her fingers over his palm, and then kisses his knuckles gently. She shakes her head. Through the gap in the now closed curtains, Oliver spots a flash of lightning.

 

“Don’t worry about me, Oliver. I’m fine. But maybe we can do something about your nightmares.”

 

Oliver frowns. “What?” he asks curiously.

 

Felicity doesn’t break his gaze, even as the thunder rumbles off in the distance.

 

“Do you trust me?” she asks him quietly.

 

Oliver smiles, and then he nods.

 

“Then let’s get dressed,” she responds. “We’re going for a drive.”

 

* * *

 

They bundle into the Porsche and Felicity drives them down the interstate. She stops at an abandoned farm outside of town. She parks them on the edge of an empty field that gives them a clear view of the sky: cloudy, pitch black, without a star and with no hint of the moon.

 

And together, they watch the storm.

 

She holds his hand the entire time. Rain pounds loudly against the roof, streaking the windshield. They watch the lightning brighten the night sky from far away, listen to the thunder rumble off in the distance. Each time the thunder rumbles, Oliver flinches, but Felicity’s there. She squeezes his hand, whispers that it’s all right, reassures him that they’re safe in the car with its rubber tires.

 

Felicity snuggles closer to him after one particularly loud rumble of thunder has Oliver gasping in fear. Oliver holds her hand tightly and waits for the next one.

 

Seconds turn to minutes. Five, ten, fifteen minutes pass with neither lightning nor thunder. In time, the rain slows from a pounding to a pattering, and eventually ceases all together. Oliver thinks that maybe the storm has passed.

 

Suddenly, off on the horizon, a bolt of lightning reaches from the sky straight to the ground, and when the thunder strikes not two seconds later, Oliver moans.

 

Felicity climbs out of the driver’s seat and sits carefully in his lap. She wraps her arms tightly around him and he holds her back. She finally settles down with her head on his shoulder, her chest pressed up against his. He can feel her heart beating against his own, slow and steady despite the raging storm, and he feels his own heart rate slow in an attempt to mirror hers.

 

As the next lightning bolt strikes, he focuses on the feel of her heartbeat jumping slightly under his own. When the thunder rumbles through, her heart is slow once more, and Oliver doesn’t even notice the car trembling underneath them this time.

 

As the next bolt strikes, Oliver focuses on her arms wrapped securely around him, and this time, when the thunder rumbles, all he feels is _her_.

 

Another bolt strikes, and she smiles against his neck. When the thunder rumbles, he kisses the top of her head, and he finds that their hearts are now beating as one.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asks him quietly.

 

A bolt of lightning zigzags across the sky, reaching from one cloud to another, connecting them for the span of one heartbeat.

 

Oliver smiles into her hair and takes a deep breath.

 

“ _You’re_ beautiful,” he whispers in response.

 

And as the thunder rumbles once more, he finds that for the first time in nearly ten years he’s not afraid.

 

**_…the end…_ **

 

_When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person that walked in. That’s what the storm is all about. ~ Haruki Murakami_


End file.
